Irresistible Attraction
by thisisvaleristyles
Summary: In spite of everything, they drawn to each other


He writhed and wriggled, hips thrusting at nothing, wishing for something. Someone. Images flashed through his mi. Skin against skin. Breathe mixing and mingling. Lingering kisses and angry bite marks. Groans that filled the night air with their passion and their lust. A dream so real could taste sweat. He craved it. Longed for it. Needed it. He needed him so bad. He wanted him like nothing else in world. God, he wanted him so bad.

His breath came in short pants. His fingers curled around the dark sheets of his bed. He bit his lip, holding back a moan that didn't have a place in reality. His heart raced and arched up. Why couldn't he have him? He wanted him everywhere. All over him. Nails raking down his back. Lithe hips bucking against his. Full lips calling out his name as they danced together beneath satin sheets. He would have him forever if could. Keep him close. Keep him safe. Keep him his. He wanted him so bad.

His eyes snapped open and he gasped. There was that familiar ache in his chest. He stifled a sob, waiting for the wishes to fade. Waiting for them to drift away so that he could get some sleep. Waiting for something- anything- to keep him from wanting someone could never have. Call it forbidden fruit syndrome. All he wanted was a big bite of that sin filled apple. All he wanted was piercing blue eyes fogged over with lust and staring at him with the same longing felt. He wanted. He craved. He pinned.

"Louis," He whispered.

Even the name felt forbidden. Wrong but so right. Bodies pressed tight together. Screaming with each other. Going past the point of no return. Never looking back. He pushed his curls hair away from his face. He needed sleep. He needed Louis Tomlinson.

He wanted more. More of that sneer. More of his searing green eyes. More of physical contact. More of his purring voice. More of his heated glare.

But he wanted more than more. He wanted that sneer to be a lecherous, leering smirk or a loving smile. He wanted searing eyes staring deeply into his. He wanted physical contact—something sweet that he'd never had. He wanted that voice muttering naughty things in his ear. He wanted a gaze, not a glare, to rake over him way wanted to be ravaged by Harry's hair. He wanted his fingers tangled in that hair. Lips pressed to his lips, his skin, his everywhere. Oh, God, how Louis Tomlinson wanted Harry Styles.

Damn Louis. Damn Eleanor. He thought bitterly in a silent rage. Well… more of loud, roaring, very messy rage, actually.

He was positively steaming as he charged through room watched, unfazed by people throwing another one of his many tantrums. He was in his private form, and slammed his door shut before they had a chance to blink. He angrily hit the mirror, which was scattered a million pieces on the floor. No one went to see him breaking down on other side of that wood. No one heard frustratedly angry sobs that wracked his body. No one stopped him when he rolled up his sleeve and took the mirror piece, put it to his vein. It would be so easy, and then wouldn't have to deal with this torture.

He didn't want to be mad. He just wanted him. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he shook, hesitating before chucking shard of glass away. Sighing, he dragged a hand through his hair. If could see him every day, that was all that mattered. He'd live with seething as long as Louis Tomlinson was still alive.

Louis panted as ran, dashing past trees as went deeper and deeper into park. His heart hammered almost as fast as his feet fell with each quick, rapid step. It was a sprint of frustration. One where he tried to run from everything that he'd ever done or known. He didn't want to be famous. He didn't want to be forced into that.

But he had been. And it was over. Yet, people were still treating him like an idol. He didn't want their devotion or immense loyalty. His steps slowed as his pants turned to hitches in his breath as he held back tears of pure anger. He was angry at world, and he'd taken it out on someone completely undeserving of his wrath.

He winced, his feet finally coming to a stop as recalled the things he'd said. Everything wished he could take back, but he'd just been so angry. Louis hissed, shaking his head, Harry didn't deserve those words. Not ever. No one did, but especially not Harry. After all they'd been through, Louis knew that most

Regret stung through him, and he leaned against rough bark of a tree. "Damn it. " he muttered, breathing short and strained, "I'm so sorry".

His hands clenched and green eyes glared at the person across from hag. How dare she? Touching what was rightfully his. If it were possible, he would strangle her right here and now. Instead, he was forced to sit, stew, and watch as Eleanor leered at his boy.

He let loose a low growl as Louis laughed at her joke. This wasn't right. This couldn't be. Louis was his, and no one else should touch him. Jealously broiled under, his skin and he finally tore his gaze away from the scene. There was a little green monster on his back, and it was making hag sick.

He stood abruptly, and few gazes fell on him. Sneering, he grabbed a unknown girl and Ignored the frightened stare she received. Placing his hand on her waist, gave her a quick glance, noting that it is not so bad, and coming to the conclusion that simply must do it. Leering grin, he flew out of the club, woman dragged along, not noticing the gaze of blue eyes, accompanying him to the door.

"Styles," he called out to him, face grim as he glanced between the curly guy and the blushing girl. "Leave her alone." Piercing green eyes turned his way, and he almost cringed at the intensity of it. They scanned him, rolling over him, making his cheeks flush and his palms sweat. He fidgeted awkwardly, unused to this predatory stare. He only followed to make sure Harry wasn't bullying the girl —At least, that's what he kept telling himself. Noticing how Harry had the girl cornered, and how he patted a narrow shoulder easily, Louis's eyes narrowed. Scowling, he crossed his arms and waited as the Harry leaned down and whispered something in the girl's ear.

"What is it, Louis?" he sneered, swaggering up to the shorter boy cockily as the girl dashed off. "If you hadn't noticed, I was in the middle of something... rather important."

Louis flinched, looking over at the retreating form of the girl. "N-never mind, Styles. I thought…I was just…I was mistaken. So forget."

He went to walk away, the little monster on his back weighing heavy and tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to escape. He sometimes forgot that Harry wasn't, in fact, his. No matter how much he wanted it to be so. Suddenly, a strong hand caught his arm and turned him. They stared at one another a moment, the silence stuffy and uncomfortable as they froze, eyes locked. Louis watched, fascinated, as Harry licked his lips nervously, and his eyes widened a fraction as the curly squeezed his arm gently, fingers scorching his skin through his shirt sleeve. Green eyes clouded over as Louis leaned forward just barely, swallowing a needy whimper as those abnormally heated eyes slid down to his mouth. Harry was ready to pull him close, press him to a wall, and kiss him until he didn't know his own name. Suddenly, there was a flash of something in those blue orbs as Louis remembered the girl, and he tore away from Harry, shaking. Wearily, he shook his head at Harry's questioning gaze. He wouldn't be a substitute. Turning away, he took off in a brisk walk, trying to get as far away from the man of his affections as possible. Jealousy was a terrible.

Harry followed him. Stalked him down at the street. The poor boy was completely oblivious to the other man's echoing footsteps as he trailed behind him. He wasn't following him to harass him—much. He was chasing him because the look in those blue eyes had been heartbreaking. He had to know why those eyes had been so heart-throbbing broken. He had to know if he was the cause.

He tracked him all the way out of the club, down past the houses, and into the park. He watches as Louis easily side stepped roots and fallen branch; he suddenly realized that this wasn't a new occurrence for the boy ahead of him. Louis knew where he was going. He knew where to step. He knew what to avoid. It made his gut clench at the thought of him wondering out there by himself. He picked up his pace as he brunette began to sob and walk at the same tune. His Louis was crying. His Louis was crying —and it was his fault. A queasy feeling one over him and he halted as Louis's knees buckled, shoulders shaking. He couldn't believe that he had such an effect on him. He was appalled that he hadn't seen it sooner.

"Lou," he whispered, voice cracking as he took a step forward.

"Go away, Styles." He snapped back, trying to muffle the pitiful sobs that wracked his body.

"No" he replied firmly, striding close and lifting the boy to his feet. Tearful blue eyes avoided his gaze. "Louis, look at me."

Hands framed his face, and gazes locked suddenly before lips followed. There was a shared moan as the pressed together, and the en on that had been coiling finally snapped. Harry pushed him back against one of the larger trees, grinning devilishly as shaking hand gripped his shirt. It was hot and fiery and almost too much for a first kiss.

"Oh, bleeding hell," he muttered against pale skin, pressing kisses down Louis's throat. "Want you so bad, Louis."

A soft mewl was all he received as a response, and green orbs glanced up to see a flush face with eyes shut tight. He scowled, pulling back a bit, and he noticed the way the shorter boy trembled. He was scared. So scared. Harry didn't understand why.

"Louis," he said gently, nothing the wince. "Look at me. Open your eye, luv."

Quivering hands clenched and unclenched in his shirt, and tears slipped down his cheeks as brilliant blue or fluttered open hesitantly. Harry scowled, leaning in and kissing the tears away, he cringed as Louis tensed and tried to pull back. His hold on the young man was strong, though. They straggled there a moment, Louis wanting loose, and Harry not letting go of the one thing he'd finally captured.

"Hey," he hissed, trying his best to calm the boy. "Just tell me what the bleeding hell your problem Is."

"You!" He snapped back, still squirming. "You can't go stringing people about Iike this, Styles."

"Not stringing you about, Louis." He sad sincerely, diving in for another kiss.

It didn't completely sooth the young man's fear, but it calm him enough to respond. Tills kiss was less feverish. It was longer and more sultry and lingering. It was Iips molding against Iips, and tongues exploring and fighting. It was want and passion all curled up together. Louis moaned softly, and Harry smirked slightly as he dominated the other's mouth.

After what seemed Iike hours, Harry finally unlatched himself, breathing heavily as he admired his handy work. Blushing cheeks, parted Iips, and dazed eyes. "Come to bed with me, Louis."

Louis eyes cleared a bit, "If you're—"

"I'm nor," he said, fingers running through dark hair fondly. "Trust me."

He trembled beautifully as scorching hands ran over his skin. Small gasps slipped past his Iips as his mouth branded pale flesh with a sharp biter here and a wet suck there. His eyes rolled back at the sensation. He'd never felt this before. Never let himself feel Iike this with anyone because Harry was the only one he wanted to feel it with.

And finally he had it.

Twin moans danced together in the darkened room as the Harry slowly claimed everything that Louis Tomlinson was. He still felt that weary fear, but if he could have him—even it was only one night—it would be worth any future heartbreak.

"Harry," the other hiss, teeth gritting together in restraint as the younger boy rolled his hips up with a wanton mewl. "Want you."

Emerald eyes darkened a skin met skin, Iips clashed, and sweat glistened on their skin. He couldn't believe. It was happening. It was all so surreal. One second, he was content to be miserable for the rest of his Iife. The next, Harry was kissing him and touching him and oh.. That was new. It didn't make sense. Granted, Louis didn't much care. All he cared about was the fact that Harry was so sodding close to him, but not nearly closes enough.

"T-take me," he muttered, face flushing a sweet pink as green eyes looked at him in stunned question. "What?" He asked, and Louis's heart fluttered at the hope in the boy's eyes.

"Take me," he said, suddenly more bold as he pulled Harry in for a deep, breath taking kiss. "If you want me. Take me. Please, Harry. Take me."

He groaned, and it vibrated across Louis's skin. They were sinking into each other. Drowning into each other. Falling even harder for each other. Louis screamed that night. Harry was happy to repeat the performance multiple times. Together, they finally felt alive.

"Morning," he muttered against messy, dark locks, grinning cheekily as he pulled the other boy closer. Louis tensed in his hold, and Harry rolled his eyes. As the pale boy tried to push away, Harry held him tighter, and burled his face in the messy hair he adored so much. Louis paused in his struggle, savoring the feeling of being pressed so closely. He sighed, heat ghosting across perfect skin, and it send a shiver down Harry's spine.

"Let me up, Harry." He said, lips brushing the other man's neck. "Get off of me."

'S'not who you were saying' last night," Harry replied teasingly, but there was a gentleness to It. "Couldn't get enough last night."

A blushing face glared up at hurl as Harry loosened his grip just enough to look at the boy in his embrace. Louis's jaw clenched and Harry grinned at the fire in those blue eyes. The curly leaned down, lips searching out the other's mouth, but Louis pulled back, his own mouth forming a tight.

Frowning, Harry let loose a low growl, and shifted his weight quickly; rolling Louis onto his back and pinning him beneath. The grappled for a moment, grunts filling the air as Louis was slowly over-powered. HIs wrists were caught above his head as he squirmed. He tried bucking his hips to jostle the determined curly above him, but it was no use. Before he knew what was happening, Harry's Iips had pressed harshly to his, teeth clicking, and he couldn't help but let out a needy moan. Harry smirked at the sound, nipping at his Iip, and grinding hips forward. When Harry finally pulled back, those blue eyes were afire with lust, but there was still a mistrust hovering there.

"I'm not letting you go, Louis." He stated with conviction. "I've waited long enough for you. And I'm not letting go."

Louis gulped slightly, his gaze melted. He wanted to believe Harry with ever fiber of his being. He found it odd that he did believe him. With a defeated sigh, his lips twitched slightly amusement.

"I don't have a choice here, do I?" Louis asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all," he replied with a smile. "I can't get enough of you, Louis Tomlinson. I intend o gorge myself on you. I'm positive that, with you in my bed, I'll never have to eat again."

The brunette's face brightened considerably at the idea, "I guess we'll have to test that theory, yes?"

Harry returned the look, "I guess we shall."

Louis Tomlinson was an addict. He was completely and undeniably add ad to Harry Styles. Everything he'd ever wanted was right at his fingertips. Now that this—whatever it was—had started, Harry practically showered Louis with affect on. To say it made him feel good would've been quite the understatement. After all that had happened in his Iife, the new attention he was receiving from Harry made him feel happy and light once more.

He let a smile grace his features as he ducked into an abandoned classroom—their usual meeting spot during dinner in the flat. It was dark and frigidly cold when he entered, and he blinked, blind in the pitch a he door swung close behind him. He froze in the black, hand itching for switch, but he resisted the urge. Suddenly, hands were grabbing and pulling, and the next thing he knew his back was pressed against a wall while a warm body molded against his front. Hot breath ghosted across his skin, and he arched against the man before him.

"So bloody beautiful," was muttered against his neck. Louis squirmed a moment, moaning as he nipped at his neck and rocked her hardness against each other. "I'm stronger than you… I don't always have to let you do this for me."

"I know," he replied, smirked as Louis leaned up to leave a scorching trail across his skin. "That's why you're so bloody beautiful."

Harry groaned as teeth scraped against his collarbone, and he clutched the other man closer, pressing together tighter. Louis only stopped when he felt that he would leave a mark if he continued. As soon as he pulled back, there were hands and Iips and needy Iittle gasps that came from the both of them. Blue eyes fluttered shut in anticipation as he felt the other man drop Ns knees. Oh, how he was add addicted…

His almost green eyes gleamed in his reflect on, and he grinned at himself. That mark on his neck was a perfect bruising just above his collarbone. It was beautiful and wonderful and it marked him as someone else's. His fingers brushed over sending slight silver down his spine. He reveled In It. He wanted so badly to just walked out and show it off. It was a desperate feeling of pride.

He was so proud that Louis had had the guts to mark him so. Harry's twitched downward a moment as he thought of the Louis—his boy. His lover. Had Louis meant to mark him for the world to see? Or had he just been carried away in the moment?

He shook his head and smeared label tone cream to hide the trail from the charming aspirated. He sighed forlornly, staring at his suddenly unblemished skin with distaste. He wouldn't push what was his away by scaring him out of the closet. He loved him, and he wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize chances with the surprisingly—but pleasantly—kinky brunette. However, that didn't mean he didn't want to go shout the fact that Louis was his. To the entire world.

With another dejected sigh, he buttoned up his shirt and left the room. He was starving. He'd skipped breakfast in order to corner Louis up in the flat. That's where he'd gotten the hickey in the first place. As Harry strode into room, he didn't notice the emerald gaze searching for the carefully placed mark on his neck —only to be cruelly disappointed when they didn't spot it.

"God, Louis, just talk to me." Harry pleaded with him, following him down the empty room.

He'd been avoiding hurl since lunch, and it had obviously not gone unnoticed by the curly. He was getting desperate, and he didn't think he could take it if Louis walked away from him. If Louis left him. Their voices were the only one in the room because everyone else was at dinner. Finally, he reached out, catching his wrist and the turning Louis to face him.

Wounded emerald eye stared up at him angrily for a moment before they fell to the floor. He tried to bug out of Harry's vice like grip, but it was no use. He'd latched on and wasn't letting go. Louis stood there, fighting back the urge to let the other man hold hurl, snog hurl, hag him. There wasn't any doubt that he wanted but he couldn't give in. He couldn't be some secret affair that didn't actually matter. He refused to.

"Louis," the voice pleaded with him, "Look at me, luv."

He shook Ns head, "I can't."

Harry blinked and tugged him forward a bit. "You can. Look at me, Louis. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Louis hissed, trying to step away—trying to get away. He looked up sharply as a strong hand ran through his mussed him-. "Har…"

"There you are" he said with a smug smile, leaning in for a soft kiss.

It was the first and only time he would ever refuse a kiss from him. Harry growled in frustration. Louis stood firmly, eyes blazing with determination.

"What is wrong?" Harry demanded, finally releasing his hold on his lover. "Don't say anything because we both know that's not true. You're avoiding me. We haven't spoken since this…"

"I can't do this anymore." Louis said abruptly, not wanting to be reminded of the sweetness of that morning. He trying so very hard o keep it together, and if he thought of what he felt for Harry he was sure he would crumble.

Harry's face was as though someone had punched him."What are you saying?"

"I can't… I told you I wouldn't let you string me along. I won't be some dirty little secret of yours." Louis stated firmly, holding his ground well. "I have my pride."

Harry seemed positively lost, "I don't understand."

He sighed drearily. He'd been hoping that it would be easier. He'd been hoping Harry would've just let It be. He'd been hoping Harry loved him and wouldn't let him.

"I have feelings, Harry," he cringed at how cold he sounded. "I have feelings for you. I know I may not mean much of anything to you, but you mean so much to me. I won't be strung along. I have my pride. I will not let myself be made a fool over my affections…"

Harry quickly silenced the man before him by pulling him in the waist and pressing their together. Louis cried out against that devouring mouth; it was mellifluous and perfect and Harry swallowed it whole. Louis tried to fight his affinity for the other man, but there was no use. He would never deny the man that already held his heart to tightly. He just wished…

"You sodding idiot" Harry muttered, kissing his lips, his face, and his neck. "I love you. I bloody love you."

Louis gasped, his heart fluttering as he wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck. Harry loved him. Harry loved him. Harry loved him. Harry loved him. It was anything and everything he could've asked for. But there was still that voice In the back of his mind..

Pulling back, he panted for the breath that Harry had stolen, "Then why. Why'd you hide it?"

Harry almost asked him what he meant when he felt rough fingers brush over his skin right where his glamour was. He shook his head, chuckling softly as he lifted Louis's fingers to his. Emerald eyes watched enchantedly, lust and love shining wonderfully there. It was breathtaking, having this man in his arms.

"I didn't know if you wanted people to know that you were with me," he stated, kissing Louis's palm. "I was hoping...But I wasn't sure. Now, I am."

Louis stared at him for a long time, then. He took him in, free hand idly twisting the hair at the base of his head. Those dark, alluring eyes looked through her Iike he was nothing; Harry was starting to get nervous until Louis's Iips formed the sweetest smile he'd even seen.

"Tell me again." Harry returned the smiled after a moment, leaning it to rest his forehead against his lover's. "I love you."

Hundreds of shocked faces stared back at them as they stood there, fingers laced tightly together. There was this rnassive sense of pride as Louis leaned into Harry. The curly smiled down at him, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. They were proud to be there, showing their love off in everyone's faces.

They were proud to love each other.

Louis never wanted to move ever again. He was curled or perfectly against his lover, idly stroking the strong arm that was draped over him. He was content to do nothing but lay there in that bed for the rest of his foreseeable future. A gentle kiss was placed at the base of his neck, and he shuddered at the feeling of Iips against his skin. The arm tightened its hold slightly, securing him snuggly against a broad chest.

"We should probably get up" his lover muttered, shifting his placement slightly o hat he could lace Ns fingers with Louis's. "People will be wondering if we're alive or not."

"Let them wonder," Louis sad with a content sigh. "I'm happy here."

A rich laugh met his ears as another kiss was placed on his shoulder. "I am, too. But we do have duties, you know. Rehearsals and concerts"

"Sod them."

Harry blinked surprise at Louis's response. Usually, he'd be the one with nasty bed -head and the want to stay burled under the covers for a century. The smaller man twisted around until they were chest to chest, a coy look in his blue eyes. Harry's eyebrow shot up amusedly. Louis only ever wore that look on his face if he wanted something.

"What is it luv?" Harry asked, leaning in to steal a lingering kiss.

"I want to stay in bed with you all day," Louis replied promptly, fingers threading through almost white locks. "I want to lay here and do nothing but shag you for the rest of the day."

Harry groaned softly just at the thought of It. "Sounds wonderful, luv... But what about our rehearsal?"

Louis grinned slightly rolling his eyes. "What part of 'sod them' didn't you understand? We're staying here. We're going to be lazy all day long. Managers can bother us about it tomorrow."

Harry seemed to consider it but really there was nothing hog for him to consider. He wasn't going to deny something that he, himself, wanted as well. Instead of answering him, he simply rolled them so that he was pressed perfectly to his over in all the right places. Might well start a day of shagging with a nice, long shag, right?


End file.
